MORE SUGAR! MORE FOOTBALL! MORE ALCOHOL, STAT!


Okay, not really. Hasn't there been enough by now? Standing at the end of a tumultuous year, and facing the uncertainty of a new one, LOST yearns for optimism, but senses little reason to be. The President seems hell bent to up the ante in Iraq with the blood of other Americans, in pursuit of a victory which he is incapable of defining for the masses. Meanwhile, the Sudan festers, ditto Afghanistan, the Russians continue to backslide toward their old, totalitarian tricks (Hey? Isn't his Secretary of State a bona fide "Expert" on Soviet foreign policy? Too bad she's too busy spinning and covering for the Persian Gulf disaster her husband - I mean the President - created. The big 2 automakers left in this country are becoming the equivalent of Corporate street people; yet its hard to feel much sorrow or pity for anyone there; LOST couldn't help but notice how many consumers from the local COSTCO pulled big boxes of sh*T out of the warehouse this Yule - all of which bore the sidemark on the cardboard "Made in China" in at least two languages. Besides alcohol and weapons, are we making anything tangible in this country anymore? On a personal note, LOST's brother found work, but cannot see the positives yet - how do you make those who want to give in pick the towel back up?

Saddam's death made LOST think only of Lee Harvey Oswald; though the former hung on for much longer than the latter, it appears that both were silenced as soon as practicable, for essentially the same reason. Quite an ironic twist of fate that Jerry Ford - a quiet but apparently firm dissenting voice from the Preznit's course in Iraq - wound up passing on in such a way that coverage of his memorial services wound up diluting the ghoulish death watch for the Iraqi dictator. The Rove-cheney Playbook slump continues . . .

This new Congressional majority - if it holds (Keep getting better Senator Johnson) has its work cut out for it. First order of business really should be - public relations be damned - turning off the war spigot for all expenditures beyond the cost of getting them all home quickly. Then start digging into no-bid deals, the Cheney energy task force, the coziness that is the FDA, FEMA and the other screwed up Fed agencies. But every time someone like Harry Reid says "we're reaching across the aisle" or "we wanna work with the Preznit on Iraq" why does LOST pucker up a bit and think 'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"?

May this be the year that we straighten the crap out, or at least begin that process, and sustain the effort.

HOLIDAY WISHES FOR ALL THOSE NOT ON THE GIFT LIST

Yes, the day has arrived, with much of the fanfare it has since 1964 or 65 - the earliest Christmas memories in LOST's banks - and while the shopping is finally done (is it EVER?) and the pies are heating up and the cookies are cooling and the wrapping is finished and all those other preps are complete - as they're going to get, anyway, it is time to reflect and give the gifts that cannot bought at any store at any price for those who are on the mental list in heart and soul this time of year. And so, in no particular order . . .

To Tony Snow, the President, and Condoleeza Rice, a loud, disgusting and enduring gag reflex that kicks in each and every time they try to sugarcoat, finesse, contort or otherwise assault the truth when speaking in public. Those guttural press conferences are apt to get more entertaining - in an Animal House sort of way at least . . .

To Pete Carroll and company, enough energy and focus to beat Michigan handily in Pasadena, then go in the tank for the next half a decade

To the Foster-Moons, true happiness and contentment through the chaotic pace of family life for decades to come.

To those people in LOST's Catholic parish still blindly ignorant enough to keep their "W-04" ovals on their rear bumpers, a profound sense of shame, followed by the dawning horror that no human effort can completely remove the darn things at this point, without leaving an indelible tell-tale shadow on their paint jobs where their ingnorance had once been so proudly displayed.

To four members of the Escondido City Council who refused to consider a request by the Salvation Army to open a homeless shelter early made at last week's council meeting, to wake up Christmas Morning in a strange city, dressed in rags and without ID, at the back of the line at an urban soup kitchen, where they must spend 3 days walking in those shoes.

To LOST's friend Rob and his father, an enduring Christmas miracle and an equally enduring Faith in the Maker of such miracles.

To LOST and LOST's siblings, the depth of courage and integrity necessary to say "I'm sorry" and "I forgive you" to all of those within the brood who need to hear it.

To Cardinal Mahony, the fortitude to apologize, resign, and fade into obscure works of penance and humility.

To "Aunt Kathy" and "Uncle Cliff" the pursuit of the former's eye for the camera, wherever it may lead them.

To Karl Dorrell, a jar of emotion elixir, and directions to ingest a little bit every Fall Saturday at about noon.

To Stevers, a soul mate.

To Dick Cheney, a two week seminar on remedial hunting, to be held in the Alaskan National Wildlife Refuge ("ANWR"), taught by heavily armed, trained Grizzly bears.

To "Generalissimo Patron," a Chargers Super Bowl victory this season, and a Cal Bears Rose Bowl appearance - sometime in the next decade.

To the Iraqi people, light at the end of the tunnel of violence and unrest in their homeland.

To the stingy of heart and mind and mammon this Christmas, realization of the joy that generosity can bring.

To LOST's "disappearing" younger sister, a 10 k run personal best under 50 sometime this year.

To Ben Howland and company, their own banner to hang in the Pauley rafters.

To "junior" a Safe return back home from the final tour overseas.

To anybody "left out" Peace, Joy and happiness this Season of hope and miracles.

THE HOLIDAYS APPROACHETH

How can you tell? Your wallet's lighter - full of receipts, not cash. The first really sucky cold has settled in behind your nose, under your eyes, and is dripping into your throat and lungs. The air outside in So Cal is unbelievably frigid - it burns to breathe in before dawn. We're buried in "After Christmas Sale" circulars. The stores are a jammed madhouse, and the parking lots are being patrolled by the driving equivalent of the 1973 Philadelphia Flyers. Smack smack SMACK. The stock market has peaked, and is starting downward again. Media outlets are still not covering important stories, but we get a respite from Celebrity genitalia coverage - replaced by "Best of 2006" lists. The first of a record 73 Bowl games gets underway next week - you know there's too many when the qualifying event is not the number of victories but the number of pulse rates on your roster. Anything stationary in your neighborhood has a strand of mini lights wrapped around it. You're surrounded by candy and cookies - give up and go quietly into insulin shock. More of this later.

LOST knows he's missed things like the 26th anniversary of Lennon's murder, Pearl Harbor Day, a big Bruin Basketball win on Saturday, the continued unravelling of Incurious George, President Nimrod, the embarrasing lie-a-second ravings of Former Fox Shill Tony Snow, the ISG report that Dubya is already lining a birdcage with, and the palpable growing discontent in this country for the fact that our country is stuck in Neutral in Baghdad. But hey, its Christmas - things to buy, bake and build.

'SMATTER PETEY?


Priceless. Instant Karma

THANK YOU JESUS!



THIRTEEN TO NINE.

NO MORE STREAK.

ONLY ONE TEAM WITH AN 8 GAME STREAK!.

Oh thank heaven for big stinky victory.

ANOTHER CHAPTER IS WRITTEN

Some things are so constant that they seem deceptively inevitable. In Southern California, the passage of Fall into Winter is marked by extraordinarily bright, but fleeting sunlight from a horizon hugging source which gives way to chilled afternoon shadows, and finally to piercingly frigid, clear navy skies. The clouds of this time of year are feathered, no doubt on the upper atmospheric gusts in a way not seen or experienced at any other time of year.

In the Southern end of Southern California, it is all too common to experience these natural sensations intermixed with the pungent odor of singed mesquite and chapparall, an unmistakeable smell which often promises destruction in its path.

It is also a time of great joy, for mingled with these natural turns are the pouring forth of holiday cheer - of sights, sounds and smells of the holidays and all their annual promise.

For LOST, this joy has been tempered many times, by the approach of another Seasonal occurrence, the mixture of powder blue, crimson, gold and green in a way no Santa ever conceived of in a hundred lifetimes. LOST speaks of the annual cross-town rivalry game, the renewed epic battle between the forces of Good (UCLA) and Evil (U$C).

Of late, Evil has been triumphing, largely because of Good’s failure consistently act. At this festive season of the year, Evil stands at the threshold of equalling the great feat of 8 in a row, first achieved by the Bruins from 1991-1998 in this series.

LOST has attended a number of these games, and it offers a groundswell of great memories and images. From the 1973 game, where the wishbone Bruins of the Blair Pair (Kermit Johnson and James McAllister) promised so much more than they could deliver, losing 23 - 13, and forcing LOST and several of his sibs to flee the Coliseum grounds after a “misunderstand” erupted between LOST’s older sister and another reveler, one with stronger ties to the local community.

There was the 1974 affair, which featured a seemingly untouchable $C team which romped home to a 34-9 win, one which included even a blocked PAT by a guy named “Batman.” This would be the same TrOJan team that would spot Notre Dame 24 points the very next week, and then score 55 in a row. A bad week in LOST’s house for sure, given a Domer Dad with a particular dislike for the Crimson and gold.

Oh, the magic of 1975. Cold, windy even spritzy Friday after Thanksgiving. No weather issues, not even 8 turnovers could stop this Bruin team of destiny from chalking up a win on the way to a Rose Bowl rematch with Ohio State and Woody Hayes. The joy of that evening, paired with the revelry that ensued the New Years day to follow, was a warmth to be revered and remembered for a lifetime. Oh, Vermeil, whydja have to go?

The dawn of the Donahue years seem, at first blush, like the prelude to the Dorrell era. 4 straight losses to the hated hedonists of Figueroa tech. Stupid , quirky turnovers, a mid air fumble by Bigfoot - as he was rumbling his way toward a huge gain on a drive - turned into a TD return. A cheesy pass interference penalty on Johnny Lynn in 77, which turned Bruin hopes for a great comeback win into a sad ending. An awful turnover by Bigfoot on a kick return sealing the deal in 78, and a terrible shellacking (35-0 at halftime) in 79 made the Donahue era feel like a trip to the woodshed. Only the short fingers of Jeff Fisher, and the nimble hands and feet of Freeman McNeil stood between the blue and gold faithful and a fifth consecutive year of rivalry futility in 1980. That tipped ball also probably saved Terry Donahue’s job, possibly his coaching career.

There have been others. Walking into the Cooperage with the futre Mrs. LOST, just in time to watch George Achica stop Terry Donahue from beating $C in consecutive seasons - what would have wound up being 5 consecutive. Or the '85 game, where LOST's friend and former roomie Crazy Jim snapped a red and gold pom pom in half, after a disheartening 17-13 loss in the Coliseum. Or the very next year, with the Hail Mary Halftime Haul in of a Matt Stevens pass - it built a 31-0 Bruin lead on the way to a 45 25 rout of the hated scoundrels. Or the Barnes Stokes game in 92, when LOST and the Mrs. left in the 3d quarter, the latter shivering, and the first born tired, only to nearly crash the car in the ensuing excitement that followed in the fourth quarter.

The Point is, it would seem, that the game gets played, irrespective of what has happened before, or how good the teams look on paper, and the outcome is decided on the field. Tomorrow, the guys in blue are gonna have to do something they've not done this season, and probably didn't do last season either - play flawlessly, and play well. If they can do both, the outcome of this one on the field might go their way after all.

ALL I WANT 4 XMAS

Well, already got a new Congress - one that won't have a big rubber stamp and jump when Bushdick says to . . . Brother's job prospects are looking positive this week, so that's a huge plus too. What else is on LOST's Christmas list?

Hmmmmmm . . . let me think. Oh yeah, I remember. I'd like this, painted blue of course.